


And You Should Have Stopped

by handcversbruise



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, M/M, lol you asked for fluff I CAN'T DO IT I'M SORRY, oops sorry kazza, this was supposed to be birthday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 05:03:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handcversbruise/pseuds/handcversbruise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Harry's birthday and things with Louis aren't going that well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And You Should Have Stopped

Harry's smiling before his eyes are even open. He feels Louis crawl on top of him, hears the excitement in his voice as he calls for Harry to wake up.

  
He opens his eyes to find the older boy smiling down on him, straddling him, and before Harry can even mumble out a "good morning", Louis' lips meet his. It's not the best kiss they've ever had, not by a long shot, it’s too uncoordinated and foreign, but they're both happy. It's Harry's birthday, and Harry thinks maybe Louis loves him today.

  
Things aren't easy with them anymore. They fight more often than not, using words that cause irreparable damage, the soft spoken apologies as they get each other off at night no longer meaning anything.

  
Harry's scared most days, scared Louis hates him as much as he claims to, scared to leave and have to start over--to be alone.

  
The boys listen; the group is split. Harry has Zayn, a surprise in and of itself since they've never been that close. Then again, Harry didn’t think he needed to get close to anyone when he had Louis.  
Louis has Liam and Niall and on the days when Louis hates him, Harry hates them too. (Mostly he hates how Niall makes Louis smile, hates how Liam and him get on so easy, hates that it's not Harry who makes him happy anymore.)

But Louis is here now, on top of Harry, and he's smiling. His eyes are full of joy, something Harry so rarely sees directed towards him anymore, and even though two days ago Louis reminded him of their fucked up relationship, he finds himself savoring every touch Louis gives.

  
They kiss like it means something. Louis smiles as he bites Harry's bottom lip, brings his hands up to Harry's shoulders, starts tracing patterns all over his skin. Harry doesn't want to let this moment slip away. He struggles to keep his eyes open (wants to remember this next time he kicks Louis out of his life) but gives in when one of Louis' hands finds its way into his hair. He sighs and closes his eyes.

  
They don't pick up speed. Neither boy makes any attempt to turn this into something more. Harry melts when Louis kisses his neck, lets out a breath he doesn't know he's holding when Louis gets off of him.

Of course it's over. He knows the two are broken, that somewhere along the way they stopped working, and that sweet kisses on his birthday won't begin to undo the damage between the two. So he lets Louis walk away just like every other day.

***

He stays in bed. He tries not to reminisce about the times when Louis was actually his, when he could call him pet names ("Boobear, I love you!") and it wasn't poisoned with sarcasm. He's twenty now, has been for about 9 hours, and the only thing he's thinking is if he would ever want to be 17 and in love again. (He's sad enough to say no.)

It's his birthday and he locks himself in his room. He's sure Louis is out of the house by now, wonders for a second if he's fucking someone else (lets himself imagine Louis being happy in the arms of another), thinks back to how just that morning thought he had his Lou back. Harry thinks that's the cruelest thing Louis has ever done.

His phone is constantly buzzing with texts from his family, the boys, even Nick texts. But he turns it off after tweeting a thank you and falls back asleep thinking of how to pick up the pieces of himself Louis has so thoroughly shattered.

***

At first he thinks he's dreaming. He hears the noise, the way Louis is saying his name with something akin to emotion; there’s no way that would happen unless it were a dream. His bed feels too warm and inviting for him to drift into consciousness, but the loud banging and frantic screaming coming from the other side of the door doesn't seem to want to let him sleep. He checks the time. It's only 2 pm and he's suddenly angry that it's still his birthday and everything is all sorts of fucked up.

  
Louis is there when he opens the door, cheeks flushed and he's panting slightly. Harry sees his lips moving, hears the loud tone with which he's speaking, but he can't stop thinking about how Louis looks like he's just gotten laid, like he's been marked by someone else,  and he's the one who walks away this time.  
He walks to the closet. He pulls out a suitcase. He moves around the room as if in a trance, while Louis yells in the background, his voice muffled by the voices in Harry's head. Harry doesn't want to hear the insults this time, he just wants to end things finally. For both their sakes.

 

"Is this yours or mine?" he asks Louis quickly as he shoves shirts into the suitcase. He doesn't wait for an answer, realizes it's the first time he's spoken out loud all day.

 

He has to laugh at the situation, really. He has to laugh otherwise he'll cry, and he might hate himself (no, he hates Louis) but he refuses to cry on his birthday. So he laughs right in Louis face, laughs so hard Louis stops screaming and just stares.

 

He probably thinks Harry's having a manic episode, to which Harry would  agree, but really-- he's leaving his boyfriend so being a bit wonky is allowed. (It's his fucking birthday and Louis didn't even try to be okay with him, and usually they at least try before letting the hostility win.)

"Harry. Fucking stop it!" Louis grabs at his wrist with such force that Harry goes still. They fight and they throw shit and sometimes Louis tells Harry just how much of a worthless waste of space he thinks he is, but he never hits Harry and if this is what it's coming down to, Harry needs to leave now.

But Louis' face looks so scared, shows so much more vulnerability (so much pain) that he stays in the room. He stays standing when Louis moves to the bed and starts crying.

 

He doesn't dare move as he hears Louis repeat, "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry for everything." He knows he's crying when his suitcase falls to the floor, when he sees most of the clothes he's packed belong to Louis; Harry knows it's not hate he feels towards his boyfriend, but pain and confusion and maybe some resentment, but not hate. He needs Louis and maybe that's what messed them up, but he thinks maybe he still loves Louis. It's something so much more complicated than blind hate, something there's no single word for. Louis finally stops talking, voice wrecked and worn from crying, and makes his way over to the other side of the bed where Harry's still standing.

 

They're face to face for the first time in weeks. It's like seeing Louis for the first time, that same scared little boy has come back to stand him down with the same hesitation in his eyes. Harry could cry at that because Louis should know just how he feels.

 

"Say something," Louis begs. Harry looks down at the ground, blushing from embarrassment at having no clue what Louis has been saying the whole time. (At 20 years old he's still so incapable of handling him.)

 

He takes a deep breath. He doesn't want to look up and see the disappointment in Louis' face so he stares with pointed intensity at the ground by his feet.

 

"It;s my birthday, " he manages to choke out.

 

He expects Louis to blow up, maybe throw the lamp on his (their) bedside table at him and spit insults at him. Or maybe he'll start to cry. But Harry only gets silence, seemingly infinite silence, silence that isn't broken even as Louis leads him to the living room.

 

Then they're on the couch and Louis tucks himself into his side, and Harry still hasn't spoken and he feels angry because this is not fucking healthy, but the boy next to him is sniffling and smells good, and he's tired of the quiet and really, it's his birthday why isn't he drunk?

  
He rests his head on Louis' shoulder and he feels the tension enter his body. Louis' breathing quickens instantly, and Harry would joke about how Louis is always so willing and ready to be fucked by Harry, but this is completely different. Louis is scared, scared of Harry being near him, visibly upset by his boyfriend of three years touching him and this is such a mess that Harry can't do it anymore.

 

He shoots up a little too fast (too angry). He looks Louis right in the eyes as he speaks.

 

"Do you really hate me?" and Harry swears he means for it to come out strong but his vocal chords gave him away. He sounds tired, hurt. Louis can tell. Or he should be able to.

 

Louis answers after a beat. "Do you really think I'm sleeping with Eleanor?" The answer should be an automatic "no." She's one of Louis' closest friends, has been for years, but Harry sees the way she looks at him sometimes (the way he once did, he's sure) and he won't make things worse by lying to Louis.

 

He looks away. "Do you really think I'm an immature presence in your life and easily replaceable? " And those aren't words that have ever left his mind, not since Louis had first whispered them in his ear while fucking him hard into the mattress. He cried when he came then, pushing Louis away as fast as he could, and he's not sure if Louis knows he heard him call Eleanor that night.

 

Louis doesn't hesitate, which is commendable, Harry thinks.

"No."

 

 

And it's that simple but meaningless at the same time, because you don't just say things like that to people you're with and move on.

 

Harry extends a hand out to Louis. He's tired and by now it's 4 pm, and so much time has passed with no words spoken that he wonders if time has stopped. Louis takes his hand. It's not until their fingers are intertwined that Harry let's himself remember how much he's missed this. How much he still misses louis even if he's right there.

 

His plan was to pull Louis up but the older boy beats him to it and pulls him down onto the couch. It's awkward trying to fit together at first. They rarely show affection anymore, hardly bother with any niceties at all.

 

They sit in more silence. But Louis breaks it.

 

"Haz..." his voice isn't strong but Harry doesn't think Louis wants it to be. "If--if you want to leave, you um, you can. I know I've been shit for far too long, I ruined today by leaving, but I was scared, I was so scared to get close to you. I don't know how to be around you."

 

Harry's overwhelmed and Louis keeps talking and he's crying and Harry replays Louis saying something about leaving and he's suffocating.

 

"Shut up." it comes out a whisper. Louis keeps going, says something about how maybe he isn’t what Harry needs anymore.

 

"Louis shut the fuck up." It’s louder this time. He knows Louis hears but the boy's still going

 

"Let me fucking talk!" Screaming is an accident, but effective, even if it only makes Louis keep quiet and start to cry. Harry’s very good at making Louis cry now. He figures Louis is just as good at hurting him.

 

Harry's not sure what to say. He doesn't know what he wants, he's too hurt by too much. Louis ' eyes meet his, full of expectations and hope and fear, and Harry looks away.

 

"It’s my birthday." He finally replies. Even he knows it's a lame thing to say, but he swallows and continues. "Let's go to bed."

 

 

They know it's a bad idea, a really fucking bad one. They don't know where to begin to talk, not sure what the problem even is, but Louis kisses Harry gently, leaves marks on his body to reclaim what he once called his. Harry responds to Louis with more kindness than he knew was possible, tries to apologize with every touch he lays into the smaller boy, but knows it's not enough. Its awkward when they’re coming down, both unsure what to do. Louis bites back tears but doesn't turn away from Harry. Harry takes him in his arms, holds him, feels relieved when it doesn’t feel like a chore.

 

 

They owe each other conversations, apologies, maybe even some time apart, but as Louis sleeps inches away from him, Harry let's it pass.

**Author's Note:**

> Written originally for my lovely Kazza! I wrote it at one am, so, sorry for mistakes.


End file.
